


Tourniquet

by sleeponrooftops



Category: Avenged Sevenfold
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-29
Updated: 2008-04-29
Packaged: 2017-10-31 07:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeponrooftops/pseuds/sleeponrooftops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>sequel to terrified.  I tried to kill the pain, but only brought more.  My wounds cry for the grave.  My soul cries for deliverance.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tourniquet

He’s recalling everything that happened that night in his mind.  He was so close and then something occurred.  Someone stopped him and he couldn’t remember to save his life who it was.  Had he blacked out?  Had he jumped and not realized it?  He couldn’t have.  The ground beneath him was too soft, and he was sure as hell that he wasn’t in heaven.  He couldn’t be; not after everything he had done to himself.  All the self-mutilation and the contemplation of suicide, there was no way they would let him in.

 

He heard a distant sigh and someone squeezed his hand.  Someone loved him in this very instant.  That someone had saved him.  But who was it?  Who cared enough to want to keep him around?  It didn’t make sense.  The tension of trying to figure out what was going on was hurting his brain, so he did the only logical thing: he shut his system down, letting himself slip back into his coma-like sleep.

 

_I tried to kill the pain  
But only brought more  
So much more  
I lay dying  
And I'm pouring crimson regret and betrayal_

Zack stayed by Brian’s side every single second he was unconscious, hand gripping his, and wishing for him to return to the living world.  He was worried sick and constantly cried.  His love was dying on the inside and he hadn’t even known until it was almost too late.  He couldn’t close his eyes anymore, and he hadn’t slept in three days.

 

The guys had tried to pry him away from Brian’s bedside, but he refused to move.  He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him… again.  The pain of him slowly deteriorating into nothingness before trying to kill himself: that had been the absolute horror.  But this, this torture of watching him waste away when he was perfectly safe: that hurt Zack more than anything; especially considering he could do nothing but sit and wait. _  
  
_

_I'm dying, praying, bleeding, and screaming_

_Am I too lost to be saved?  
Am I too lost?_

He was yearning for something to quench his thirst.  His throat was parched and his tongue felt like it was swelling.  His arms burned and his muscles ached.  He could feel the scars carved into his arms slowly healing, but that sense of purity aggrieved him even more.  He wanted to get away from this detoxification, he wanted to get back to that cool water, to feel its drops fall on his face and bring him to life again.

 

He could still feel the hand, ever-present, and he began to awaken as he felt it relax.  His eyes fluttered open as another’s slid shut.  And he lay like that, completely aware of everything, unmoving, while his Zack slept, drained of energy and malnourished.  He waited for the silence to settle, waited until his breathing was so quiet, he could have been dead, waited until Zack’s steady sleep-breathing slipped into nothingness, and waited until he was absolutely sure he could move again. _  
  
My God, my tourniquet  
Return to me salvation  
My God, my tourniquet  
Return to me salvation_

Zack was shaken awake abruptly, and he jolted into an upright position, blearily looking around.  He heard voices, shouting at him and saying Brian’s name, but he was staring at the empty space on the bed, at his empty hand.  He could hear Matt demanding where Brian was behind him and how could he have possibly fallen asleep.  He couldn’t believe it himself.  He’d been so careful to remain awake.  It seemed only obvious Brian would disappear the second he dropped off.

 

He turned his head slowly toward the balcony, hearing the harsh pitter-patter of the rain.  Lightening struck the ground not far off and thunder rumbled constantly.  It had been raining like this nonstop since the near-fatal accident.  He remembered that last fleeting second as he realized Brian was alive, seeing the soft smile on his face as the rain splashed openly upon him.  He knew where he was. _  
  
Do you remember me?  
Lost for so long_

_Will you be on the other side?  
Or will you forget me?_

He felt someone approach him carefully, tentatively.  His name was spoken, but he didn’t turn.  He continued to grip the railing, face upturned.  He was only wearing boxers and a plain white T-shirt, but they both smelt of Zack and Ichabod.  It was always his favorite smell: tobacco, Jack Daniels, peppermint, strawberries, and dog fur.  He loved Zack’s scented shampoo.  It made his hair so soft and pretty.

 

He heard his name again and a head was leaned against his chest, a trickle of soft, strawberry hair touching his neck.  He dropped his chin to Zack’s head, removed his hands from the railing, and trailed them around his beautiful boyfriend’s waist.  He whispered an apology, kissed his black hair, and proceeded to look back up at the sky.  He felt alive again. _  
  
_

_My wounds cry for the grave  
My soul cries for deliverance  
Will I be denied Christ?  
Tourniquet, my suicide_


End file.
